In a half century, I’m in the obituaries
Crumpled up, saved by hoarders
Memories are for the mourners
Modern prosperity, let go of clarity
Let in barbarity, d**h in solidarity
Swell conditions, cancel my subscription
Cancel my service, it serves no purpose
Elvis is king because he’s evil, he’s miserable
A cruciform structure of a man that we love.
It’s a kind of commotion hanging onto every notion
A part of distraction where no one can take any action
But am I the perversions in your mind
There’s a running joke and I’m at the end of it.
Cut the text, brush off ambition
Hip a**ociation, aureate emission
You can call me Al, allocator, agitator,
instigator or something like that
You see no colour but you exploit a culture
A conniving vulture, inflicting torture
Elvis is king because he’s evil, he’s miserable
A cruciform structure of a man that we love.
T-R-O-U-B-L-E that spells it
T-R-O-U-B-L-E here it comes now.